


Decisions

by frostbitter



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:58:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitter/pseuds/frostbitter





	Decisions

"Well," Wes said as he threw open the doors of the tour bus. "This is as good of a place to make camp as any."

Alyssa followed after he jumped down, eyes squinting from the setting sun as she looked around. "Um... it's a camping site."

"Exactly!" Wes tossed her a cheeky grin before leaning down, yanking open one of the side trunks and squatting down. "Now get over here and help me make camp."

"Let her set up the camping bags. You secure the area, I'll get some firewood," Sam's view was partially blocked by the huge ball of fur he held in his arms as he stepped down. "You can get Sadie fed and figure out dinner as well, Alyssa."

"I do that every night. Can't I come with you?"

Sam snorted in response.

"I'm serious!"

"No, you can't. You can stay here where you're safer."

"But I'm safer with you!"

"Well," Wes huffed underneath his breath.

Alyssa turned and gave him a sympathetic, though unapologetic, smile, to which he scoffed before stomping off to the other side of the bus.

"Sam, please," she begged.

"No. That's final." Sam jabbed a finger at the dog resting beside his sister's feet. "Feed her. Find something to eat. I'll be back in a few minutes to make a fire."

She sighed, loud and angry, and was ignored as he moved away from her and away from the clearing, pulling a pistol out of his back pocket and double-checking it for ammunition. She glared at his back until she couldn't see him anymore, then sighed again and looked down at her pet. "Alright, girl. Hungry?"

Sadie was served a cold dog dinner of canned beef, then settled on a blanket. Around her, Alyssa arranged their sleeping bags as close together as she could without getting too much into either of their personal spaces. She trusted them both with her life, but despite someone always up to keep guard over her, she still couldn't quite sleep at night. She felt better knowing someone was right there, even if it was just her dog, and often she would reach out and touch whoever was closest in a need for safety reassurance. Usually, it was Sam she grasped for, and who she thought she was touching, until she opened her eyes and saw Wes passed out on his blankets.

She'd decided upon hot dogs and a vegetable for dinner. Canned, of course -- what else was new? Everything tasted awful, and if she hadn't hated canned foods prior to the outbreak, she certainly did now. Regardless, she set the cans on top of her sleeping back and glanced over at Wes, who was now patrolling their camp, a rifle in his hands.

She watched him from across the clearing, his attention on the woods. Not on her.

Her eyes slid to the woods behind the bus. The side of which he couldn't see unless he moved closer.

She glanced back at Wes one more time. Then darted behind the bus and looked around. Nothing was really all that dangerous and she couldn't see why her brother was being so overly-protective. The sun was still up, and it was bright all around. She could see more than ten feet around her, in any direction, so really, she would've been fine. She _was_  fine. In fact, it was pretty quiet; silent, actually, save for the sound of her feet as they carried her, step by step, into the woods. That, and her short, exhilarated breaths.

Just a bit. Not too far. Enough to feel like a normal explorer, a normal teenager, a normal- but she would never be normal. Their world would never be normal. No, the best thing she could be was a _survivor._  A true survivor, not a timid girl forced to hide because her brother doesn't trust her with a gun. A survivor with a knife, a gun, or her two clenched fists, not afraid to stab a Walker in the brain, not afraid to shoot another human trying to hurt her. A survivor.

Her right hand curled as she spoke and she shot in out into the air, straight in front of her. _Pow._

  
The corners of her lips tilted into a grin.

Alyssa's foot came up next. Straight into the air, into a Walker's chest. _Whoosh._  Her fist, into an eye. _Pow._ Guts slipping down her arm as she sinks her blade into rotten flesh.  _Squish._

  
A Walker, directly behind her.

_Crunch._

  
Sharp snarls fill her ears and she screams, ripping away from clutching fingers and dripping saliva on her shoulder. She runs back to where the clearing is, or where she thinks the clearing is. Behind her is more snarling, the fabric of her top falling from its chomping mouth.

Alyssa screams again and hears her name shouted into the air.

"SAM," she shrieks, running to her left. And then to her right. Confusion sets in; which way is North? Where is the sun? Where is her dog? Where is her brother? Where is _something???_

  
She yells again and runs back to her right, past tree after tree until she nearly barrels straight into her brother. Behind him she goes, ducking beneath his raised arm as _bang_ goes his gun and down goes her pursuer.

She doesn't look. She buries her face into Sam's chest and sobs as he carry-runs her back to the camp.

 

"Goddammit, Wes! You were supposed to be watching her!" Sam screams at his friend as he bursts onto the camping site. Across the way comes Wes as Alyssa is laid down on a sleeping bag.

"I thought she was inside the bus! I shouldn't have to babysit her, she's old enough to know better than to run off."

"For FUCKS sake, Wes, she's fourteen years old!"

"She's not a child, she should've known-"

"This is your fucking fault, if you had just paid closer _fucking_ attention-"

"If you'd just _taught her how to SHOOT-_ "

 

Spots and stars and colors and shapes and size.

Pain. Hot red blood spike scream tears.

Alyssa felt.

  
"Shit-SHIT, she's bit!"

Sam moved his attention down to his sister, to the blood pouring down her chest, to the flap of flesh dangling from her shoulder. It didn't occur to him that he was also covered in blood.

"No. No no no, God NO," he screamed, flinging forward. Rough hands tore away her top, leaving her in a grimy bra that was once white but now coated in dirt, and now blood that dripped from his arms as he balled up her shirt and pressed it against her wound.

"Get bandages, get the first aid kit get it now WESLEY NOW-"

"Sam, that won't work! She's done, she's dying, that wound is too big and she's lost too much blood-"

"DO IT NOW-"

"I CAN'T, it won't work. She's dead, Sam!"

One hand on his sister, the other grabbing a fistful of Wes' shirt. "Then get the fucking axe."

"Sam, it won't work-"

"NOW."

Wes was flung backwards, landing hard on his back. He stared at the sight before him; he would've seen the life fading from her eyes had they been open. Instead they were shut tight, her body motionless. Her brother enveloped most of her body, his lips to her ear, begging, whispering, pleading. _Stay. Stay._  Her hands clutching his back, slowly sliding down, inch by inch. Harsh cries of pain dimming.

His hand drifted towards the rifle before him. Grasped the stock.

"Please stay," Sam whispered.

He aimed. Level between the eyes. Right into the brain. She was already too far gone. She wouldn't feel it.

Wes willed his friend to move, to spare him the backlash that would end up all over his face. But he couldn't. Sam would stop him.

His finger on the trigger.

"Alyssa, dammit, you are NOT leaving me, Alyssa _please-"_

  
_Pow._


End file.
